For Dust Thou Art
by BlueBlender
Summary: A stranger, found during one of Oobleck's excursions, finds himself in a new age. But with no fire or dark, what can he do? And while Remnant's players scheme over each other, he knows, for better or for worse, not much will change. This isn't that story anyways. Inspired by Lithos Maitreya's "The Wolf in December". (takes place between V2-3)
1. Chapter 1: Transitory

"Incredible! These ruins have aged immaculately, even within Grimm territory."

Jaune looked around nervously. "Uh, Profess- I mean, Doctor Oobleck, is it okay to deviate from the path like this?"

"We won't get lost, Mister Arc. A map and compass can help navigate us just fine, and any Grimm around this area is no tougher than the ones you fought during initiation." He jumped up to a near-hanging tree branch and looked through his binoculars. "It seems there's a second site half-a-click away. It may be related to this one. Let us be off, JNPR!"

Jaune tried to keep from sighing. They had been camping at this site for a full day, taking pictures, recording details on the dilapidated constructs. It didn't help that Oobleck kept asking questions that only Pyrrha was able to adequately answer. At least they would likely come up on their next test.

"Everyone got enough Dust?" he asked behind him.

Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora nodded. This was their first assignment and no one wanted to get caught screwing up.

"I know I said it before, Jaune, but maybe you should invest in a gun, at least?" Nora asked.

When Jaune moaned, Ren stepped up. "She doesn't mean any offense. But if you're looking to upgrade, she's the most creative one for the job."

"Yeah, I know where she's coming from." He rubbed his sword hilt. "It's just a hand-me-down, but I like it. It's simple, and it does its job. And if I want a gun, I want to buy it with my own money."

Pyrrha and Ren nodded. Despite his indignation, he didn't seem as overly dour as he was before. The fight with the Ursa last semester did wonders.

"And then there's money needed for ammunition, maintenance, upgrades and other options, and that's just a hassle to me right now. Besides, not everyone at Beacon uses guns."

The second site resembled the first in terms of architecture and age, but there was a difference: a faint smell of smoke.

Oobleck and Team JNPR tensed. If it was a smoke signal, the doctor would have seen it with his binoculars. It was too sunny and there wasn't enough vegetation for a freak wildfire.

Which meant someone was already here.

"Stay behind. Don't draw your weapons, but be ready," Oobleck whispered. "They may be travellers in a temporary camp, and we can escort them to Opus with the bullhead if we need to: It's the closest settlement and they will be safer there. Regardless, stay behind and wait for my signal."

Everyone in the team trembled at the sight of Oobleck walking past the treeline. They all thought the same thing: what if it wasn't travellers? They'd heard stories from the second and third-years, about being raided by bandits and intelligent Grimm.

After the longest two minutes, they heard Oobleck call them. Hands still on their weapons, they followed his voice and into the clearing, where their doctor took pictures of the surrounding ruins and a stranger sat near a campfire.

The stranger wore a knight's armour that looked just as aged as the ruins, with several weapons and shields lining it. If he noticed them approaching, he didn't show it.

"Doctor Oobleck, is everything alright?" Pyrrha asked, trying to avoid leering at the stranger.

"Don't worry, Team. He's not going to fight. This man just arrived here before us." Oobleck drank from his thermos before facing the stranger. "We will not bother you, we just want to investigate these ruins."

The stranger looked over them and nodded before staring back at the fire. Now that they had a closer look, a rusty sword was planted into the fire.

"Let's unpack shall we?" Ren suggested. "We're deeper in the forest, so let's keep close while we're here, alright?"

"Good point," Jaune answered. "Doctor Oobleck, will we need to call a bullhead for… him?"

"We may, but not yet." Oobleck smiled and gestured to the stranger. "His… equipment, is similar to those I've seen in past digs. Instead of Opus, I would like to take him back to Beacon for further questioning. If he will allow it."

The team nodded and tried to avoid the stranger as best they could while working. Oobleck zipped around faster than ever, jotting notes until they could smell the paper burning.

"That guy, who do you think he is?" Nora whispered next to Ren.

"Keep it down," he hissed back. "He doesn't look like a Huntsman: his equipment's too ancient to be effective. Jaune's sword could probably cut through his armor."

"You think they're heirlooms like Crocea Mors?" she asked excitedly.

"Maybe. But the bigger question is why he's here. If he's a vagrant, he should have packed more lightly, with food and proper camping equipment instead of weapons."

Nora squirmed in place. "He probably just wants to be left alone. You know?"

He nodded. "Come on. We should get a move on before-"

"Everyone!" Oobleck shouted. "Regroup now!"

Without another thought, JNPR converged around the campfire. Oobleck was perched on a nearby tree, his binoculars raised and his thermos in its launcher-form.

"There is a pack of Ursai approaching this way, two-hundred meters south. Arm yourselves. Avoid damaging the ruins if possible, but do not endanger yourselves or our guest!"

The man in question raised his head. All of the children drew their weapons and surrounded him.

Silently, he followed suit, a spiked shield in one hand and a white sword in the other.

Oobleck faced him, the tip of his launcher aglow with heat. "Are you able to fight? Please be careful: these are Ursai, and they can be deceptively fast for their size."

The stranger nodded. He assumed a ready position, just as a guttural roar shook the air.

Beyond the treeline, a stampede of black-furred bears sped towards them, their red eyes glimmering at the sight of their targets. At the sound of Oobleck's launcher roaring to life, JNPR followed suit and lined up next to him, firing into the Grimm.

One of them, a Major, managed to evade the initial gunfire and pushed aside Pyrrha, ramming straight to the stranger. Jaune saw it coming, but stuck under the weight of a Minor, he couldn't move.

"Mister!"

The stranger planted his feet before shoving his shield's spike into the Ursa's hungry maw. Unflinching, he fought against its momentum and charged, slowly but steadily pushing past Team JNPR's defensive line.

"Stay behind us, sir!" Oobleck screamed over his launcher's fire. But the stranger kept moving ahead, stabbing the Grimm's head in the process. Soon, a new problem emerged: its fangs dug in too deep for him to pull out the spike, so he discarded it and kicked the deceased Major out of his way.

Leaving him surrounded by a swarm of Ursa Minors.

"Sir!" Pyrrha jumped onto one of the wrecked pillars. The rhythm of her rifle grew frantic, but no matter how many she took down, the Ursai retained their focus on the stranger, the target closest to them. "Get back here, hurry!"

Then, she saw it. A small ball of fire formed in his left hand. When the stranger swung it, the fire stretched out like a whip, setting all the Ursai around him alight.

"Holy- what was that?!" Jaune screamed as he finally killed his Minor. "He could do that all this time?"

"Mr. Arc, hold the line with your team, I'm going to get him!" Oobleck answered. Burning a path through, he disengaged his launcher and ran after the stranger.

By now, the herd had thinned with only a dozen Minors left, but the stranger fought just as frantically as the rest of them. Even with the weight of his weapons and armour, he skillfully dodged all of their swipes and deflected the ones he couldn't, cutting their limbs into freezing stumps.

Eventually, JNPR and Oobleck could see him slowing down. The swarm was thinned, but his swings were slower. Oobleck found a gap in the Grimm and charged, right before a Minor headbutted the stranger into the air.

"Sir!" Jaune screamed. A lack of glow on impact meant that he didn't have his Aura active, and he fell a good ten feet before hitting the ground.

But at least he was closer to the team, so that was good, right?

The stranger tossed aside his white sword and withdrew another from his belt: a thick, curved one with a blade resembling an old feather. He swung it in front of it, releasing a small typhoon that sent the Minors tumbling back.

"Burn, and now Wind Dust?!" Nora shouted over the wind. "How many weapons is this guy packing?"

With the stragglers now scattered, the Ursai were easy pickings for JNPR and the stranger. For the next minute, they didn't hear anything but the sound of blades slicing Grimm and their screams.

"That was quite a performance, mister…" He had picked up the straight sword and offered it to the stranger.

He didn't answer. He stared at the hilt before grabbing it with a trembling hand.

"GRRRROARRH!"

Behind him, a Minor sprung from under a Major's corpse and sank its fangs into the stranger's left shoulder, crushing his armour like tinfoil.

Pyrrha was the first to react, her sword shifting into a spear, but the stranger had already moved. He turned himself around, tearing his shoulder free before stabbing his sword into the Ursa's skull.

JNPR held their breath as a layer of frost formed around its wound, before the entire head shattered with a twist of the stranger's wrist.

"Hang on!" Ren ran in, pulling out a pocket first-aid kit, but the stranger waved him away. "Sir, please! With a bite like that, you'll bleed to death in..."

Behind him, Nora and Pyrrha gasped. Ren looked closer at the wound and understood why. Last they learned in health class, neither humans nor faunus bleed black.

"Sir, are you…" Pyrrha approached him, only to get waved away again.

The stranger grazed his open would, its bleeding now halted, and growled before wiping it on his armour. JNPR stared uneasily, squirming away as the putrid scent violated their nostrils, as the stranger bowed to Oobleck.

"Thank you for your aid."

The doctor flinched. The voice was deep but raspy, as if it took him all the air in his lungs to talk. He didn't make a single sound, even when Oobleck introduced himself to him, only shaking or nodding his head in response. Why did he choose to talk now?

"Thank you for yours, mister…"

"You, boy." Ignoring Oobleck, he walked to Jaune, the most exhausted of the group.

"Yes- uh, you mean me, sir?" His legs trembled as the stranger pointed at his side, where a bloody gash stretched all the way to his back. "Whoa! Mustn't have noticed it during the fight," he chuckled. "Uh, Ren, mind cracking open that first-aid kit?"

As Ren uncorked the bottle of disinfectant and Pyrrha unravelled the gauze, the stranger passed Jaune a mug-like container.

"Drink."

He eyed the fizzing mug, his brows crumpling when he smelt alcohol."Uh… I don't know if I'm allowed to drink on a mission-"

"Do not worry, Mr. Arc," Oobleck interrupted. "You're all of age, and while I recommend against drinking in public-" he peered into the mug and sniffed "-I will not stop you. I understand you're not used to skirmishes with swarms like today's, and a pick-me-up from time to time is perfectly natural." He took a swig out of his thermos and waved them off.

The stranger pushed the mug into Jaune's hand before unclasping a glowing bottle on his hip.

"By the by, I've already called for an bullhead." Oobleck waved his scroll. "With the ruins vandalized by our battle and our fighting capacity crippled, not all of us may survive another ambush nor is the investigation our top priority. After you're patched up, pack up and wait for extraction, Team JNPR." With that, he dashed to the pillars, inspecting their damage.

Jaune stared into the gold concoction and looked ready to drown himself in it. It was his second mission into the semester and all he managed was to cut down a couple Minors. That, and shout at the stranger. "Maybe it's time for that upgrade…"

"Don't beat yourself up, Jaune. That's what the Grimm are for," Nora said. While everyone else tended to Jaune, she retrieved the spiked shield. "That was amazing, mister. Looks like we owe you one, huh?"

He took back the shield and hung it on his back, still not taking his eyes off Jaune and his drink. Sighing, the stranger clacked his bottle with the mug. "Drink. You fought well."

Blushing, Jaune took a sip, humming in surprise. It burnt his throat going down, but it wasn't what he could call "spicy". "Wow, that's good! Ren, try it."

Everyone took a sip from the mug, and everyone gasped. It was faintly sweet, and while the liquid was cold, it warmed their bodies from their stomachs to their fingertips like a hot shower.

"That was amazing!" Nora squealed, rubbing her belly. "That's got to be something homebrewed, right? But how did you get it to taste like- eep!"

Everyone's eyes followed her finger: the flesh around the stranger's shoulder regrew, pulling and melding itself together until only blood-coated skin remained.

Before anyone could continue her question, the stranger pointed back at Jaune's wound: the bleeding had stopped.

"How did you- what was that?" Jaune asked. "That wound should have taken at least an hour to heal with Aura, and this thing-" he shook the half-empty mug "-healed it like that!"

"I think we all have some questions for our new friend, Mr. Arc, but they will have to wait." Oobleck tapped his wristwatch. "Bullhead's in five minutes. Now, mister…"

The stranger nodded, but kept silent.

"Very well," Oobleck continued, undeterred. "Sir, as I asked before, will you come with us to Beacon Academy? It is far safer than here in the wilds, and if you do not mind, we have some questions that only you might answer. If you do, we can guarantee your safe return home afterwards."

The stranger walked to the campfire. His hands grazed the fire, but he didn't seem bothered. He sat down, rubbing his exposed shoulder.

"Home? Very well."

While everyone else nodded at sat around the fire, Nora looked at Ren with worry. His already low voice dropped another tone.

"You… don't have a home to go back to?"

The stranger looked at Ren, and shook his head. "My home is… not worth returning to." He pulled out the sword out of the fire, which instantly extinguished. "I will oblige you, but I do not promise anything."

* * *

"It is nothing short of impossible, Headmaster! My analysis on his armour estimates it to be several thousands of years old, maybe more! More than that, he uses weapons that are clearly pre-Dust, yet possess capabilities that are even more powerful! He is a walking fossil, Headmaster, and his discovery alone-"

"Yes, Professor Oobleck, you've said plenty in your reports, and I have read them thoroughly." Ozpin tried to keep his mounting frustration out of his voice. He knew better than to let his expectations lead him. "Yet, bigger questions remain, concerning why's and how's more than the what's."

"Er, yes, about that." Oobleck's pace slowed, but his enthusiasm remained. "He has said little about his own self and his whereabouts." He leaned in closer to whisper. "I think he does not trust us, Headmaster."

"Yet he saved your team from Grimm earlier?" Ozpin looked at the stranger in his office, who himself was craning his head around, almost hypnotized by the clockwork around him. "Has he at least told you his name?"

Oobleck shook his head. "Afraid not. I think the only reason he was willing to let us bring him in was curiosity."

Ozpin looked back at the report. Creating fire, his weapons freezing whatever it touched, and summoning wind from nowhere, all without any Dust, was cause for further investigation. Obviously, the stranger was tight-lipped about the matter, and ignored any questions regarding them or himself.

"Am I to understand," he spoke out, making the pair jump. "that you are the leader of this era's people?"

Ozpin blinked. Impossibly gravelly voice aside, why had he decided now to speak? "If I answer, will you answer my questions in turn?"

The stranger nodded.

Ozpin grabbed his cane before rising from his seat. "I am one of the leaders of this continent of Vale. I cannot speak for all of its people, however."

The stranger nodded again.

"Now then, who are you? Your name, kingdom, anything that can help us identify you would be very helpful." He fidgeted with his cane as he moved to the front of his desk.

The stranger looked at the green-haired man. "Helpful to whom? You, myself, your people?"

"Everyone of us," Oobleck replied, finishing off his coffee. "The more we know about each other, the less accidents can occur from misinformation."

The stranger didn't move. "Any knowledge I carry is too outdated to be of any relevance." He looked past Ozpin to peer at the sun in the sky.

Ozpin frowned, but Oobleck pressed further. "Oh? That carries plenty of information already! You come from a time that we did not even know existed! That itself is a tremendous find!"

"Information? Find?" The stranger repeated. "Is that what I am? A relic to be studied and investigated?"

"Er… with your permission, of course." Oobleck felt Ozpin's stare on his back like the tip of a knife. Smooth-talking was never his strong suit.

Ozpin sighed. "What Professor Oobleck means, is that you have given our students something unknown, possibly hazardous, to drink. We do not know what long-term effect it may have on them, and if it does, we hold you accountable."

He looked around one more time before walking up to Ozpin. "That drink is perfectly edible, and I gave it to your students for their recovery. In terms of exchanging information… your world, its monsters and its people are fascinating, but I have no curiosity or concern for them."

Ozpin held his breath. He came from another world? Does that mean that fire and his weapons are magic? If so, this was a delicate situation. If he has any ties to Salem, he could not let him go freely.

"No concern? Yet you aid our students against the Grimm?" Oobleck asked.

The stranger looked down. "Courtesy. And my life was endangered as well."

"Then what is your intent now that you are here?" Ozpin's tone turned firm.

"I have no intent. Not anymore. I will see what this place has to show. Whether it is an Age of Fire or Dark, a bonfire has manifested here, and I will see what it has to offer."

"A bonfire? Is that what you were sitting next to?" Oobleck asked.

He walked up to him. "You are an academic?" He passed him a large rock and the coiled sword. The same iron Oobleck saw him pull out of the bonfire. "Slaver over these: relics of a bygone era. A token of trust."

Oobleck nodded and laid them on Ozpin's table. But Ozpin was still doubtful. "If you wished for us to trust you, we'd rather you surrender your weapons. If you'd like, you may rest here, and we have individual lockers and plenty of rooms."

"I would like to leave." His voice hardened, and they knew the conversation was over. "If you intend to stop me, I will resist."

He turned around and opened the door to the stairwell.

"Wait!" Ozpin shouted. "Before you leave, one more issue."

The stranger kept the door open, but didn't face him.

Ozpin clenched his teeth. He didn't want to bring Oobleck into the fold so quickly. But if he told Oobleck to leave, that would make himself more suspicious for both. Was it worth the risk just to receive a confirmation from a source that might not even tell the truth?

"...thank you for saving our students. And I'm sorry to have taken your time."

The stranger didn't answer and walked out of sight.

"That could have worked out better," Ozpin groaned.

"I apologize for the lack of tact, Headmaster."

"No. He was too distrustful of us from the beginning." He looked over the "gifts", but kept from touching them. "But he says he doesn't want to fight us. If he did, he would have likely killed your expedition team. Instead, he saves you from Grimm."

"Shouldn't he be kept under watch, at least?"

Ozpin smirked. "Would you like to volunteer, then? If you asked him nicely, I'm sure he'll let you."

"I'm surprised you could hold your own curiosity back, Ozpin!" Oobleck raised his thermos, forgetting it was empty. "The man hasn't even had his Aura unlocked, yet survived a mortal wound and healed himself near-instantly!"

Ozpin adjusted his glasses. "He is a loner by nature. I know his type. Forcing him to do anything will just make an enemy out of him. Make sure he is secure. I want you to record everything and every word."

"Of course! I'll have to get these back for safekeeping, first! Excuse me, Headmaster-" He picked up the stone and sword and ran to the elevator. "I assume you want this business with him between just us?"

"Share your findings with your expedition team: they have the right to know if it is for their safety. However, do not antagonize him. If possible, have one of them guide our friend until he is off the premises."

"Of course." He pulled out his scroll and tapped a profile image. "Mr. Arc, is your team fully recovered?"

* * *

"Another mission? Already?" Pyrrha finished her snack and got to her feet.

Jaune copied her and put his scroll away. "It's about that guy we picked up. Oobleck just wants us to keep an eye on him while he's here."

"You mean that guy that shot fire out of his hands and stuff?" Nora chirped. "Great! Come on! If we're lucky, we might get to see him do more magic tricks!"

Ren shook his head, but smiled. "Just don't bother him like you did before."

When Jaune read Oobleck's message, he couldn't help but let out the heaviest sigh yet. A skirmish with Grimm still took a lot out of him. And now, they were supposed to tag along with that stranger?

He shivered. Beside his weaponry and silence, what really scared him was the man's injuries. A normal person couldn't take an injury like that without bleeding out. But the wound stopped bleeding, and whatever he drank healed him like it was nothing.

He rubbed his side. After landing, he had to surrender the beverage to Oobleck, and wished he had a time to savor it further, to reciprocate the stranger's kind gesture.

"Oobleck said he's just left the Headmaster's Office, right?" Pyrrha looked at her scroll. It had only been a half-hour since they arrived. "If he's leaving, he's probably at the ground floor."

As usual, she was right. The stranger was exiting the stairwell when they reached the elevator.

"Oh! You're… here." Jaune looked him over. His shoulder was still healed, but the exposed skin was still caked in blood.

The stranger didn't move, only staring at them.

Jaune clenched his fists and looked up at him. He was team leader, it was time to act like one. "So… your shoulders all better, then?"

He nodded. He pointed to Jaune's ribs, and Jaune perked up, tugging at his shirt.

"Oh! And, uh, thank you for that drink from before! It really helped."

Pyrrha nodded with him. "Mister, if you'd like, there's a workshop where you can get your armour repaired." Pyrrha spoke up. "We forgot to get our own equipment checked up, so if you'd like, you can come with us, together."

He shook his head before walking off.

"Soooo, what are you doing here?" Nora leaned beside him, looking at the weapons lined on his back.

"I was leaving."

Ren pulled his friend back, leaving the stranger ample space to walk. "Don't let us stop you. But if you're looking to leave the academy, you might run into some problems."

"Such as?"

"Uh, like the fact you need a boarding pass to ride the Air Bus, or that you might get lost and enter the girl's bathroom by mistake, or- ooh! Maybe you get into a fight with someone, and then the staff will get involved, and then the whole school will be after you!" Nora finished with a wave of her arms.

"I warned your professor: if anyone tries to stop me from leaving, I will resist."

Jaune shivered again. "That's fine! I-I mean, that's what we're here for: to stop anyone from stopping you! From leaving!"

The stranger stopped walking and faced the blonde. "And who are you, to be my watchdog?"

"Jaune. Jaune Arc. And this is my team, JNPR." He swallowed. Was that the first time he didn't stutter?

"Then stand tall, and speak clearly. Slowly if you must. Hesitation belies strength, and fuels distrust."

Jaune bowed low, partly to hide his burning face. That gut-feeling from the ruins returned, and his legs trembled again. "Yes sir! Thank you- er, where are you… I thought you were leaving, mister…?"

He walked by him, passing the "EXIT" sign right above him.

"I plan on leaving. However, I will do so at my leisure. If I am told to leave, I will. Stay, and I may."

* * *

It wasn't long before they attracted the attention of other students and faculty. The day's classes were over, and students were either heading back to their dorms or idling by their lockers and classrooms.

While the stranger walked calmly as before, JNPR was feeling the pressure from everyone's stares and whispers. Even Pyrrha's patience thinned at his aimlessness. The team was thankful that between the stranger's presence and Pyrrha's celebrity status, most of the students left them alone, except for one team.

"Ooh! Is that a sword? And a great axe, and a dagger, too! And for defence, a spiked shield and an aspis, just like Pyrrha's!"

Team RWBY's leader zoomed around the stranger like a fly, leering at his weapons more than himself. He was ready to shove her away when the blonde - her sister - pulled her away.

"Sorry about her. She's reeeally into weapons, 'specially ones she never saw before."

The strange didn't answer or even look at her. Nevertheless, Ruby kept close and kept her hands behind her back.

"Can you at least tell us where you got them?" she squealed.

"They are relics. Not bought nor made."

While Ruby slumped over in defeat, Weiss approached him.

"But… if they're artifacts, are you allowed to use them?"

He stopped walking and face the newcomer. "No one else is using them. I use them to survive."

More silence. The woman didn't budge, only scowling deeper.

"You imply I stole them."

Everyone stopped moving. Even Weiss tensed at her thoughts being vocalized. But she couldn't falter. "You wear a knight's set of armour, but it's rusted to death, and your weapons don't match. And the weapons themselves look like they're from different places. Am I wrong?"

The stranger didn't answer. The stare-down continued until Yang elbowed her. "Jeez. A little tact, Princess?"

Weiss blushed, but didn't hesitate. "If he's a thief, isn't it our job as proper citizens to turn him in?"

A low hum escaped him, before his whole body trembled from laughter. "A thief. A thief!" He rubbed his visor. "Yes, you are absolutely correct!"

Weiss, as well as everyone else, stepped back. Team RWBY cursed their lack of weaponry while Team JNPR prayed they didn't have to fight.

"A thief. A pilferer of souls and arms. But if so, what then?" He stopped laughing and looked down at Weiss.

More silence. None of the students made a move or sound. Eventually, he shrugged and kept walking. After he was a safe distance away, Yang pulled Jaune in a headlock.

"What is wrong with this guy?" she whispered. "You found him, right?. Did he do anything suspicious while he was here?"

"No! He came down from the Headmaster's Office, so he can't have done anything." Jaune wriggled free and looked nervously at the stranger, still walking away. "We're not gonna fight him, but if he does anything funny, you guys call Ozpin and Oobleck, and we'll stall him."

Everyone nodded and followed behind, some quicker than others.

Meanwhile, Team JNPR redoubled their focus. If he was a thief, that raised more questions and risks. He was either successful enough to not get caught, or killed anyone that tried to stop him.

"I'm sorry to pry," Ren said, his fingers rubbing StormFlower's grips. "But then where are you from? It would make it easier for us to trust you if we knew more about you."

"Your Headmaster said the same thing. I do not name them for the same reason as then."

"Which is?"

He rubbed his jaw, forgetting that it was blocked by his helm. "This is a center for education, yes?" When Ren nodded, he hummed. "Oolacile. Anor Londo. Vinheim. Lothric. Lordran. Irithyll. Carthus. Do these words mean anything to you?"

Ren's feet slowed. Of all the textbooks he had read, none of them mentioned such names. The earnest tone in his voice didn't sound like he was making them up, either.

"That is why. Where I am from, where I know, they do not exist nor matter."

Ren frowned. "And you don't feel anything for them?"

He didn't answer, and entered the workshop.

* * *

The room was larger than it appeared, with long chimneys stretched to the ceiling like pillars. By the smelters and forges, a couple smithies and their apprentices were reforging some metalwork.

Jaune turned to him and scratched his head. "Oh yeah! We were supposed to check up on our stuff, but, er…"

"Proceed. I will stay and observe."

In a few moments, everyone (except Pyrrha and Ren, who volunteered to stay watch over the stranger) got their equipment and lined up next to the smithies.

"You don't need your armour repaired?" Pyrrha asked.

He shook his head and pulled out a golden clump from under his chestplate. He rubbed it in his hands until it sparked with electricity and slathered it on his non-existing pauldron.

A few seconds later, nothing happened. More seconds passed before he sighed.

"Was that supposed to do something?" Pyrrha asked, fighting down a smirk.

"It seems my armour is broken beyond my means."

"You want us to repair it for you?"

He shook his head again before walking over to the forge. Pyrrha and Ren followed his gaze to the disassembled weapons.

"Thinking of getting a checkup?" Yang asked, her brow raised. "You'll have to wait in line like everyone else."

"Your weapons are more complex than I assumed."

"Sheesh, you sound like you never saw transforming weapons before."

"No."

Her jaw dropped. "What? Wait-wait-wait, come on. Pistols? Shotguns? You know those, at least, right?"

"No."

"Bullets? Dust?"

He didn't answer.

Pyrrha stepped in between the two. "He's a traditionalist, like Jaune. People from outside the Kingdoms don't have a lot of Dust to spare, right?"

"But he doesn't know guns?!" she moaned. "Hey, Rubes, you know weapons more than anybody. Tell him about Crescent Rose. Maybe he'll let you hold one of his."

Her leader was unusually silent. Pyrrha didn't know too much about Ruby, but her sudden shyness didn't match her earlier enthusiasm.

"She is indignant. I understand."

Pyrrha blinked. His deep tone didn't change, but his voice was gentler. "Weapons have meaning because of who they are wielded by. From that perspective, weapons wielded by a no-good thief, no matter how grand, seem hollow."

No one answered him, but everyone, even the smiths, focused on him. He pulled out a straight sword, the sword he used to shatter that Ursa's head. "Look. Its fluid design, from pommel to tip. Translucent like ice. Why, it is an offense for such a beautiful weapon to be so lethal in purpose."

He grabbed the base of the blade and faced the pommel towards Ruby. "Every weapon I found and use holds history. Some more than others."

Everyone watched quietly as Ruby reached-

"Ah!" She pulled her hand to her chest. "It's cold!"

Jaune met the stranger's eyes before slowly extending his own hand, his fingers grazing the crossguard. "So this thing's how you killed those Ursai?"

"What kind of sword is that?" Ruby whispered in awe. "Ice Dust can't do that. Not without a reactant or a firing mechanism."

"I am not certain myself." He traced a finger down the side of the blade before sheathing it. "It is unique, and belonged to a knight of Irithyll, a city of perpetual cold. I know little of its making. I am but a thief, after all."

"Oh, stop that!" A strong slap from Nora knocked him forward, nearly tripping him. "No one's got a grudge on you for that!"

"Is that right? I did not want to assume."

"If it's any comfort, not all of us grew up pampered like Princess here, with a matching moral high ground." Yang wagged her eyebrows, earning a growl from her partner.

"Stop, before our guest gets the wrong conclusion of the rest of us by association."

"Oh, so he's a guest now. A minute ago, he was a crook."

The heiress's continually twisting face and the talk, while entertaining, eventually halted. The smithy's silent stare was enough to remind them: be quiet and let the master do his work.

Meanwhile, Ruby and Jaune relaxed enough to start a new conversation with him. The stranger inquired about their "Aura" and "Grimm", while they asked more for his background.

"Hang on," Jaune interrupted for the fourth time. "You said this Irithyll place is a kingdom, but we don't know any place like that."

"Yes. I do not think it exists in any of your maps or texts." He leaned against the wall, slowly falling on his rear. "You study history here, yes? How long does your people's history go?"

Jaune scratched his head. He didn't know which was worse: the stare of a girl or the expectations of a stranger. "You mean, just generally? Dunno, probably between two-thousand and three-thousand years? If what Oobleck said about all the ruins are true?"

"And his civilization, these kingdoms, spans all the lands?"

"Er, a big part of them, I guess? There are still some places too dense with Grimm to bother securing, and there are some villages and other settlements outside the kingdoms' borders."

"Vale, Mistral, Atlas, and Vacuo are their names?"

"Yeah. They've been here since, like, the beginning."

The stranger hummed. Jaune felt his blood rushing again. He knew the stranger didn't mean anything by his lack of a response, but it still felt like he let him down somehow.

"Your turn, then," Jaune said. "All those places you mentioned, Anor-something, and Vinheim, where are they all? Are they villages?"

"Villages? They are grand institutions, existing for hundreds of generations. Although by the time I visited them, there are only tales and ruins of them."

Ruby scratched her head. "But they're not on any map, and we've never heard of those places in our studies, so…"

"Let us divert from geography, then. What about magics? They are ubiquitous where I am from."

Jaune blinked. "You believe in magic?"

"What do you think keeps my sword frozen?"

"Uh, Dust?"

"Is that what you call magic?"

"No!" He pulled out his scroll and brought up images of different Dust. "It's what we use in our weapons to fight. We mine them out of the ground all over the world. You saw us shoot with it back then."

He nodded. "But no magic?"

"Duh. Magic isn't real… uh, isn't it? Things like that are just fairy tales, right?" He looked at Ruby, whose head excitedly whipped back and forth between Jaune and the stranger.

"Then, the Undead are only tales, as well?"

"Wait, what?"

The stranger got back to his feet. "Thank you for this information. I will take my leave in earnest now."

"What?!"

The stranger walked away, inadvertently signalling JNPR to follow, all the way to the front doors. By the entrance hall, Oobleck and Ozpin saw them coming, along with Goodwitch.

"Has your field trip proved worthwhile?" Ozpin asked.

"I was never escorted anywhere with such hospitality before."

"I apologize if they inconvenienced you." Goodwitch eyed Jaune and Ruby, who nodded nervously. "I am Professor Goodwitch, one of the instructors at Beacon."

He nodded. "Do you have further business with me?"

Ozpin and Goodwitch turned to Oobleck, who held out the stone and coiled sword. The stranger shook his head.

"I meant for you to keep them. I have no use for them anymore."

Ozpin smiled. "You offered them as tokens of trust. Think of this as our own show of trust."

"We have recorded all we could from these artifacts," Oobleck interrupted. "But, we, I mean, I was hoping you could stay a bit longer, explain what these are in detail."

"They are relics I found by chance in my travels. I am even more clueless to their origins."

"So these may not be native to those ruins?"

He stayed silent and walked past him and out the door. Glynda gripped her crop, but Ozpin kept her hand in place.

"If he doesn't wish to tell us, that's his business. Professor Oobleck, I'm sure you'd like to talk with your team. Professor Goodwitch, make sure everyone returns to their dorms on time."

Both of them nodded. That meant he wanted privacy with their latest guest.

Ozpin followed behind him, all the way to the front gates. "So, what do you think of our academy?"

"Very populated. I know a few associates that would kill to study here."

He frowned. "May you be interested? Any curiosities or questions you have, any of us will be happy to answer before you leave."

"And what would you get in return? I do not mean offense: your institution is impressive and its students show merit. I simply care not. I will leave, as I have said."

He chuckled. "I think I've given the wrong impression. My intent was to offer you shelter for the night, as you can tell…"

The stranger looked up: the sun was setting, and dark clouds filled the sky.

"I get the feeling that you are the type that trusts contracts more than people." Ozpin walked closer before extending his hand. "Take this as one. In return for the artifacts you donated. And my students you protected."

The stranger stared at him and his hand. The rain was getting heavier by the minute. Eventually, he pulled out a white bone and crushed it in his hands.

Other than getting wetter from the rain and becoming a soggy clump of ash, nothing happened.

"Is that how your people agree to a deal?" Ozpin asked, his brow rising.

"No. We say either "yes" or "no"." He brushed the remaining ash off his hands. "Very well. I will take up your offer."

Ozpin withdrew his hand before he got the same muck on it. "Thank you. Are there any accommodations you would like?"

He laid his hand out, catching some of the droplets in his hand. "May I make a fire?"

* * *

It was a weird day, not just for Team JNPR but the whole school. The stranger seemed to have made a makeshift campsite in the dining hall, his weapons laid out beside him. Ozpin cited an open fire as a hazard in an indoor environment, but supplied him with a portable heater. He also promised him a private room, but he would have to keep from making fire like he did in the ruins, saying that would only draw unwanted attention.

"So you're staying the night?" Pyrrha asked. Her presence had the side-effect of guaranteeing no one but her team would bother them.

"Yes. Apologies. I am… unused to so many people. And the hospitality."

"You travel alone?"

He didn't move. That usually meant "yes", right?

"Has the green-hair questioned you all about me?"

"You mean Doctor Oobleck? Yeah, he asked us about what we talked about." She smirked. "He went nuts when he heard about that sword of yours, though."

"Good, I do not have to suffer his questionings."

"Those places you mentioned before, were they where you got all this?" Jaune pointed at the array of weapons laid out. The stranger was armed to the teeth, it was a wonder he could run with it all.

"Some."

Meanwhile, Nora approached with a mountain of foodstuff. "Come on, enough talk! Take off that helmet and eat with us!"

He stared at the precarious pile before shaking his head. "Undead do not eat."

There's that word again. Jaune still couldn't wrap his head around it. "Oh come on. That fire stuff with your hands, sure. That sword, okay, but undead?"

"You do not believe me, because you do not have them."

"Because people don't come back from the dead."

"Then I apologize for being the exception. Regardless, I do not eat."

"You sure? It's reeeeally good!" Nora held up a piece of bacon in front of him before tossing it into her mouth.

"Undead do not have appetites. I suppose the smells are pleasant, at least."

"What about that Ursa bite?" Ren asked. "After that, you drank something that healed you."

The stranger grabbed the golden flask. It was mostly full, allowing its content to swish around freely. "Estus. The drink of choice for Undead." He handed it to Ren, who grabbed it with both hands.

He eyed it warily. The colour was similar to the drink the stranger gave to Jaune, but less viscous. As soon as the estus touched his lips, it evaporated into light.

"Woah," he whispered. He shook the bottle, confirming its contents were still liquid. "It doesn't taste like anything, but it burns."

The stranger took the flask back. "Estus. Only Undead can drink them. Though I suppose that does not explain what Undead are or prove myself as one." He faced Jaune. "So, what do you know of the Undead?"

Jaune gulped. Why did he always ask him? "Well, they're like zombies, aren't they? They look like corpses, they shamble around, eat people, and you don't look like you do any of that."

"Hollows: Undead that have fallen mad and mindlessly continue the functions they had in life. Anything else? How they are born, why they rise from their graves?"

Before anyone could say anymore, the bell rang. Dinner was over.

* * *

The stranger didn't move from his spot, even after all the students left. Ozpin was the last to visit him, and escorted him to his room: it was surprisingly vacant, with only a bed, table, and a chair.

Finally alone, he let out a laugh. When was the last time he saw a bed, or slept in one?

Out the window, the broken moon shone through. A breathtaking sight, but compared to the sun leaking the Abyss, a broken rock in the sky wasn't nearly as somber.

He sat against the bed and stared into the heater's glow. It was warm, but it didn't have the same atmosphere as a live fire. Trying to remember the advice from his teachers, he pulled out his flame.

"Go on. Be as mad as you like."

Instead, a different voice escaped him. The flame flickered into a darker shade. Through it, he saw a familiar deserter.

"You crawled out of the ground, for gods' sake."

The flame darkened further, and the words rumbled heavier in his throat.

"We'll never amount to anything. Not you, nor I."

He crushed the flame before he could remember more.


	2. Chapter 2: Unearthing

"So, that new guy. You think he'll stay long, Cinder?"

"He's just a drifter a teacher picked up on a mission. He won't be a problem."

"So we won't have to worry about any interference?"

"We proceed as planned. Just do your part, and make sure you don't attract too much attention. If anything comes up, I'll deal with it."

* * *

Ozpin knocked on the door before opening. The sun had just risen, and its red light leaked into the room. The stranger didn't look up from his hand, where a ball of fire trembled at Ozpin's entrance.

His brows crinkled. It resembled Amber's power, but he wasn't a Maiden. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"Undead do not sleep."

"I ask as a courtesy." He closed the door and sat on the chair by the desk. "Is that magic?"

The stranger nodded. He crushed the flame in his hands and stood up. "Magic does not exist here?"

"It used to. Now it is unheard of, and those that can use it are rare."

"The students' Aura and Semblances are not magic?"

"I suppose it has become so commonplace it has lost its mystique. But few know the original magics, and Aura came after its disappearance." Ozpin peered through the stranger's helmet, hoping to match his eyes. "Is it true? You are an Undead?"

He nodded again. "They are only fiction here. The Undead Curse is no longer."

"A curse?"

The stranger chuckled, and Ozpin felt all his hair stiffen. "For a moment, I thought I had been transported to the future. The technology here is beyond any I have heard or seen. But there are still living, warm-blooded humans. Perhaps I had been wrong. Perhaps, it is I who hail from the future."

The grip on his cane tightened further. Oobleck spoke about how all of the stranger's possessions were pre-Dust. Did he come from a time not before its discovery, but far after its expiration? It would explain why Ozpin had never seen something like him before.

Unless the man predated even the Gods.

"A question of my own: are you here to keep me from leaving?"

"That depends on your cooperation." Ozpin stood up. "I haven't forgotten you aiding my students, but I fear you can be a dangerous liability. Not willingly, but by forces that seek our destruction."

"I have only been here for a day. Your faculty and students were the only people I met." The stranger stood up to meet him. "I do not care about these forces. I do not care for your people. I have no reason to stay here."

"Do you have a reason to leave?"

His hand stopped on the way to the door. "I wish to explore. See what this Age has to offer. Whether I am used as a pawn in some greater plot, such schemers must simply not impede me."

Ozpin met the stranger's gaze. "If you wish to explore, I suggest you start here. There are many things in Remnant you may not understand, and Beacon teaches more than combat skills."

"I would rather see the world with my own eyes. I have heard tall tales of great beings and establishments before, only for my expectations to be dashed.

"I understand the importance of witnessing things firsthand, truly." Ozpin crossed his hands behind his back. "But, is it not ignorant to avoid potentially helpful information when it is offered freely?"

"Freely?" The stranger scoffed. "Apologies. I supposed being badgered by children is of no cost."

"Is that a yes?" Ozpin smiled.

He nodded. "Very well. In any case, such heckling was… a novel experience, and a worthwhile exchange for the time spent."

"I'll try to make sure the rest of your time here is just as worthwhile."

The stranger nodded again. He turned the knob, but didn't push the door.

"I will be forward with you," he muttered, keeping his eyes locked on the door. "I believe your intent to keep me here is for the sake for your people's safety. Yet, I find it doubtful that the master of the Academy himself would watch over me now, by his lonesome."

Ozpin didn't take his eyes off the stranger's back. "Your skill and magic are formidable, and I do not want my students on their receiving end."

"Your coddling is not what I mean. No, you have another reason for meeting me here. A personal reason, to meet so early, before anyone else." The stranger's voice grew deeper with every sentence.

Ozpin looked out the window, at the red skyline. "I assume you are not the only one from your world who is undead." When the stranger nodded, he frowned. "A world of Undead. What is it like?"

None of them moved. For a moment, Ozpin thought the stranger saw through him when he opened the door.

"A world where live humans are extinct. Where the lands are either dead or dying. A world where the sun bleeds dark." He chuckled again. "A world so desperate for salvation that it calls upon us Unkindled, failed Undead, to continue its existence when its true saviours had forsaken it."

Ozpin nodded slowly. "And this curse? Are all humans afflicted by it?"

The stranger hummed. "It is… a symptom. A sign of the dying First Flame. Of a waning Age of Fire. I assume due to the lack of Undead and these… Grimm, this is an Age of Dark."

"And the First Flame?"

"The creator of disparity. Heat, cold. Life, death. Light, dark. Its inception marked the Age of Fire." He sighed and walked out of the room. "Or so I am told. Now will you show me the way, or shall I leave without you?"

* * *

Jaune stretched his back, grunting every time his spine popped in response. He'd never gone back to bed, instead falling asleep over his cluttered desk at some point.

"I told you to sleep on your bed, Jaune!" Pyrrha tossed him his bag. "Now you're gonna end up falling asleep in class again."

He answered with another yawn. "It's just for today. I'll drink an extra cup of coffee for breakfast."

Ren looked over the scattered notes on the table. "You're really serious about those upgrades, Jaune?"

"Yep. A gun might be a bit too complex to integrate into a sword or shield, but I'd still like to have options, you know?

Nora flipped over the notebook. "Ooh, a Dust-infused blade! Buuuuut, I dunno about adding a cannon to a shield, too much mass to-ooh! But adding a shield to a cannon-!"

"Those notes are private!" Jaune swiped the notebook and stuffed it into his bag. "Let's get something to eat."

The rest of the team smirked as they followed their leader out. Their last mission left an impression on all of them, but Jaune seemed to take it the most deeply. If he had a plan for improvements, they hoped to see it soon.

In the dining hall, the general murmuring among the students was louder than usual. They saw why: most of the teachers on the faculty table were gone.

"They must have gone to break early," Ren suggested. "You think there's something special planned?"

"They would have left us a message, wouldn't they?" Jaune dipped his toast in his soup. "Maybe it's something with that guy we found."

Their first class of the day was Port's Grimm Studies. By the time they arrived, Port wasn't preparing the board like usual, but instead speaking with Ozpin.

"Don't worry, Headmaster. Both of your presences will be a good boost of morale to start the day. Not everyday we get a personal guest to the Academy, after all." Port turned to the team. "Ah, Team JNPR! Had a good night's sleep, I hope?"

"Guest?" Jaune repeated "You don't mean… him?"

They leaned in the room and saw the stranger leaning against the back wall. He didn't seem to have noticed them.

"Now don't be intimidated, but I expect a good retelling of your skirmish from your expedition!" Port laughed, unaware of the JNPR's dropped jaws.

"We will not get in the way of your lesson, JNPR." Ozpin entered the room first, beckoning everyone else in. "Don't mind us, and proceed as normal."

All of the students groaned. It's words like those that came from people like him that made them do everything but.

To their surprise, after Port explained the situation to everyone, the lesson did proceed as usual. Sweat soaked his shirt as Jaune told the class their fight with the Ursai, but the cheers from his teammates and Team RWBY after finishing left him a small smile.

"An excellent battle, young man!" Port patted his back as he returned to his seat. "Experiences like yours are to toughen you up for the fights further ahead. What matters now is what you take from it."

Afterwards, the majority of it was spent reviewing the physiology and behaviour of greater Grimm, namely Griffons and Taijitu. After that, they reviewed their homework on analysing migration patterns on aerial Grimm.

But, as he did to finish most of his classes, Port brought out a caged Grimm: a Taijitu youngling. Too large to slip through the bars, but still vigorously thrashing about.

"Team JNPR has seen enough action for the week, but will anyone else brave the maws of death?" Port thundered to the class.

"Professor Port, if it's alright, we can still fight." Pyrrha raised her hand, and the rest of her team nodded.

"No, JNPR." The bravado in his voice disappeared as Port shook his head. "Courage is a necessary trait for a Huntress, but overeagerness only undermines you. Like submitting a test before double-checking your work."

Pyrrha looked over her teammates, all whom shrugged. It wasn't often she was criticized for her enthusiasm.

"No, Ms. Nikos. I'd prefer someone less skilled for this opponent… Mr. Winchester, what do you think?"

The brunette, who up until this point had been glazing over the same page in his textbook for the tenth time, smirked. "You think I'm less skilled, Professor?"

"Simply appropriately skilled for a Taijitu this size," Port chuckled. "Or do you think your own team's not up to snuff?"

Cardin looked over his own team, before thumbing at the stranger. "What about our guest? He sounds like did a good job with the Ursai, why not a Taijitu?"

"He is a guest here, Mr. Winchester, and he is here strictly to observe." Ozpin answered.

The air got thicker and everyone froze. His voice wasn't casual or firm like any of the professors. For the first time, Ozpin sounded angry. Even the Taijitu's thrashing lulled, as if it figured out what its purpose was for.

Cardin, his smirk gone, shrugged as he kept his eyes on the stranger. "He's the only one here with weapons, so why couldn't he?"

Before Ozpin could rebut, the stranger walked down the stairs, pulling a black dagger from his waist.

"Open the cage."

Port wiped his brow. "Sir, this isn't what-"

"Open it."

Ozpin rubbed his chin. "Let one of the students handle this, a Taijitu-"

The stranger stood in front of the cage. "Open it."

Port nervously looked at Ozpin, and after a tense second, readied his blunderbuss. "You might want to get ready in case of an accident, Headmaster. I don't think our guest is letting this one go."

Ozpin sighed before tightening his grip on his cane. "Very well. You will not use a shield?"

A flame appeared in the stranger's empty hand. Ignoring the hushed whispers among the students, he slammed the fire into his chest.

"Not this time."

Port gave one more look at Ozpin, before smashing the padlock off.

The next second was filled with the students' gasps and screams. In a blink, a white-headed serpent pounced from within the cage and sank its teeth into the stranger's head.

Opzin dashed down while Port switched his blunderbuss into its axe-form. But before they could get close, the stranger raised his empty left hand to stop them.

"No." He grabbed the Taijitu's head and slowly pried open its head. Its half-foot fangs pierced the steel helm like paper, but he freed himself with similar ease, his fingers gripped tight.

However, this only left him exposed to the second head. Coiling around his leg, it sank its fangs into his stomach.

The stranger ignored it in favor of the white half. He walked over to the teacher's desk and slammed the head down. Making sure it wouldn't squirm out of his grip, he swung his dagger into its skull, pinning it in place.

With his hands free, he summoned his fire again and slowly burned the black half until it released him. This time, he held the serpent to eye-level.

"Hmm." He reached into its mouth and snapped off its fangs. The lesser rows of teeth were too small to properly remove, but at least now it wouldn't ruin his armour. "Dark, but you are no Pus. No corruption, either, with no blood or flesh. What are you?"

The Taijitu only continued to snarl and snap at his hands and face. Eventually, the stranger gripped each side of its mouth and pulled them apart. Reaching the full extent its mouth could stretch, he pulled harder, until the Taijitu's roars turned into howls of pain.

Some of the student covered their mouths. They had killed dozens of Grimm, but never like this. They couldn't call it killing. It was mutilated, mangled so calmly and slowly, like a kid burning an ant with a magnifying glass.

"No physical remains. No souls, either." He pulled the dagger out of the desk, freeing the white half as it thrashed around dissipating. Looking up at Ozpin, he bowed. "Apologies. I wished to see the Grimm up-close."

"Are you alright, Sir?" Port asked. "That bite, your head and armour…"

"I am alive. Iron Flesh is an eclectic spell, but a simple one. As you can see, there is no blood." He rubbed his helm and walked back to Ozpin. "I hope that was not too sudden."

Ozpin frowned, but kept silent. He had hoped to keep the man's magic a secret as long as possible.

Before anyone could say anymore, the bell rang.

* * *

"That was awesome!" Nora squealed. "I've never seen anyone kill Grimm with their bare hands before! He just grabbed it and rrrrrripped it like a phone book!"

"It happened two minutes ago, Nora." Although Jaune tried to be mature in front of her, his lips kept creeping up into a smile. "But him… I hope he's okay. That Taijitu was small, but it still broke through his helmet."

As if he heard him, the stranger pulled out another handful of the golden powder Pyrrha saw before. This time, the powder seamlessly melted into the cracks and holes in the helm and chest plate, fusing with the metal.

Pyrrha blinked. "What was that?"

"Repair Powder. A magical tool that can repair any equipment, as long as it is not completely destroyed."

"So your shoulder guard, it's ruined?"

He nodded.

Pyrrha scratched her head. A man in knight's armour, people coming back from the dead, shooting fire out of his hand, a sword that froze anything it cut, powder that fixes anything. All of them sound like something out of a fantasy novel.

But it felt off. She couldn't deny what she saw, but to call it magic? Only the superstitious or ignorant dismissed things they don't understand as such.

"But the Taijitu's fangs bit your head, I'm sure of it. It's too long not to. And you don't have your Aura unlocked, so…"

"Aura," the stranger repeated. "This thing you call the extension of your soul. Such a thing is impossible for me. Unkindled cannot empower themselves, only through the aid of a Fire Keeper. As for the Grimm, I am unharmed. "

She frowned. A Fire Keeper? Unkindled?

"Ahem." Ozpin tapped the ground with his cane for emphasis. "Questions can wait until next class."

By the time they arrived at Oobleck's lecture hall, the man was zipping around faster than ever.

"Ah! Headmaster! Sir! Right on time! Everyone, get to your seats. We have a lot to cover today!"

The class proceeded the same as Port, with Ozpin and the stranger standing at the back as Oobleck led the lesson. However, to everyone's surprise, it ended far earlier, at least a half-hour before the bell.

"Actually, Headmaster, I was hoping our guest could fill in the remainder of the time. I have already run through my material for the day, and his insight and experiences will be a welcome change of pace."

"A guest speaker?" Ozpin turned to the stranger. "What do you think? Will you speak in front of the class?"

He shook his head, but walked down regardless. "And, what exactly would you have me talk about? I am no conversationalist."

"Ooh! Tell us about that fire you used at the ruins!" Nora urged, raising her hand. "You used it last class, too!"

"Pyromancy? What of it?"

"Is that your Semblance?"

He shook his head. "All of you possess Aura, and your Semblances are a result of its mastery. My magic is similar, but not quite. But I suppose we must backtrack before I elaborate further."

"Magic… encompasses a variety of spells and techniques. Not only my flame, but my weapons are magic, and I myself am magic, by virtue of the Undead Curse."

Jaune raised his hand. "So… when you bled in that forest, your blood was black…"

"Rotten. The Curse does not keep the body in perpetuity, it only reverses the death of the afflicted."

From there, what he told the class sounded less like history and more like ancient myth. Gods cursing humanity with the Darksign, starting the Undead Curse. The darkness of man, not only metaphorical, but physical and tangible. People burning themselves alive in a giant kiln to keep some fire going, earning them the title of Lord. It didn't help that the stranger himself didn't sound certain of his tales.

"Pyromancy is a facet of practical magic. The physical flame is shared among its practitioners, and through meditation and experimentation, they manipulate the flame to form spells. The spell I used last class was one form of pyromancy, the one in the ruins another."

Eventually, Pyrrha raised her hand. "I'm… I'm sorry, but I just don't buy it. People coming out of their graves, all this magic… if they existed, why haven't we heard of them before?"

The stranger nodded. "The boy, your leader, Jaune Arc, told me of how there are still parts of the world still untamed, uncontacted. Why do you think such things are impossible? Your people empower yourselves with your souls to fight Grimm that, by his account, should not exist due to their lack of one, and they still exhibit qualities of living."

Nora scratched her head. "Huh, really? I mean, they walk around in packs and sleep, sure, but they don't do a lot of other things, like eat, drink, mingle…"

Pyrrha raised her voice, hoping to refocus the conversation. "And… I'm sorry for being so upfront, but-"

He raised his hand. "You do not believe my Undead nature. I suppose it is difficult for those alive to fully differentiate a walking corpse from the living. The only certain way of proving it would be to kill myself and reviving, but I think your headmaster would appreciate me not endangering myself again too soon."

Pyrrha only laughed nervously. "Maybe we can just take a pulse? From your wrist?"

The stranger took off his gauntlets, but only extended his left hand. "Will this work?"

She nodded as she took his hand. Undead or not, he was undoubtedly old. The skin was covered in ash and despite its wrinkles, it was stretched thin, leaving the bones and joints jutting out. How did someone so thin fight like that and carry so many weapons?

Nevertheless, she placed her fingers on his wrist. As she searched for a pulse, the stranger unclasped his helm with his free hand.

"Feel anything?" Jaune whispered.

"No. I feel the tendons and bones, but there's no artery beating. And his hand's freezing."

"No heartbeat. No bloodflow. No temperature."

The pair looked up and flinched. The stranger's helm was off, revealing a face half-covered in a blindfold. Only his mouth was exposed, but the state it was in explained why he was so thin: he was dessicated, with gray skin that had the texture of leather and rows of chipped teeth.

He took off his blindfold and smirked at their gaping mouths, his cracked lips almost crumbling off. On his forehead, a ring of fire glowed like embers.

"The proof of Undeath: the Darksign. Will this suffice as proof?"

Jaune's pencil snapped in his grip while Pyrrha tried to maintain eye-contact. She read somewhere that eyes were the windows of the soul, but the stranger's pure black eyes showed nothing.

"When the Darksign manifests, it is a sign of the First Flame fading. Being creatures of dark, the gods sealed the dark within us to restrain the Abyss from fully manifest." He covered himself in the headwraps and stepped back to the front of the class.

Ren slowly raised his hand. "But… zombies- I mean, Undead, are just stories. There's no record, no official legends or myth that talk anything about this."

The stranger replaced his helm back on his head. "Which has lead me to conclude that this is no longer an Age of Fire. The Flame and its Era has been snuffed, and brought an Age of Dark. An Age of Man."

"But then, why are you-"

The bell rang. Another class was over.

* * *

"You gonna finish that?"

Pyrrha jerked up at the voice. Nora was staring at the sandwich in her hand.

"Uh, yeah." She stuffed the last bite of her sandwich and cracked open a bottle of juice.

"You okay, Pyrrha?" Ren asked. "You've been out of it since we left Oobleck's."

She took a deep breath. "It's just… him. I'm just anxious, I guess. I've never seen a… a dead person before, and seeing one walk around and talk… how are you dealing with it so well?"

Nora shrugged. "Eh, I guess I just don't see him as a dead guy. I mean, he's old and smelly - don't tell him I said that - but he's not such a bad guy. Maybe a bit cuckoo, but-"

"Pardon me."

Nora squeaked as she jumped an impressive height before hiding behind Ren.

The team was too busy talking amongst themselves that they didn't notice the stranger approaching. He sat down, laying down a tall glass of water and a pitcher.

Jaune gulped. "Oh um... I thought Undead don't need to eat, so…"

"We do not. We can still ingest." He sank a green weed-like herb into his glass before downing it all.

Jaune looked at Pyrrha, nudging his head to the stranger. Was her curiosity that obvious?

She gulped. "Before class, you said that you were "Unkindled". Is that another name for Undead?"

"I told you there were Undead in the past who sacrificed themselves to the First Flame, to refuel it as kindling. I failed."

"Failed?"

"My body was not strong enough. Instead of serving as firewood, my flesh and soul were like cotton to the Flame, and burned away. That is the origin of the Unkindled: ashen ones."

Pyrrha hesitated. "I'm sorry, I still don't follow. You said that Undead burned themselves in the First Flame. And that, Undead were created by a dying Flame. But then, what are the Unkindled?"

He poured another glass. "Unkindled… Since the First Flame, much time passed. But no matter how many Undead sacrificed themselves, the Flame continued to weaken, eventually reaching a point where it was only cinders. To preserve itself, the Flame resurrects its previous tributes, the exalted Lords of Cinder, to link themselves to it a second time.

"Only, in truth, the Lords abandoned their duty, and to bring them, or their remains, to fuel the Flame, we Unkindled were created. Nameless Unkindled, impotent to link the Flame, serve not as its saviours, but its servants."

"So to make sure they do their jobs, you kill them." Pyrrha shivered. It sounded wrong, but when the world was at stake, such business becomes inevitable. She heard stories of Huntresses cracking down on bandits outside the Kingdoms. "Do you… resent it? Is that why you're… here? Why this is an Age of Dark, like you said?"

"I do not curse my purpose or the Flame. Is it not the natural desire of all living things to continue living?" He downed his glass a second time. "But I reject them all the same. Just as the Lords rejected their purpose. Regardless, another Unkindled as foolish as I was would eventually rise to the mettle. As for my abandonment leading to this new Age, I cannot say for certain. With the lack of Undead, it is certainly no Age of Fire."

She rose to her feet, her hands balled beside her.

"Pyrrha, wait!" Jaune stepped between the two. Their commotion had attracted the other students' attention. They had never seen the Mistral Champion so furious. Nevertheless, she didn't break her gaze.

"How can you… I'm sorry. Maybe I don't know enough about where you're from and how you do things, and I still don't know about this system that requires people to kill themselves, but… how can you just, just turn your back on it? And just wait for another to take your place?"

He rubbed the rim of his glass. "Whatever is the problem? We Unkindled will rise no matter how many times we die, and eventually one of us will succeed in delivering the Lords."

"That's not it! It's about doing what's right!" She waved her hand at him. "I can't speak for everyone, but people like us become Huntsmen and Huntresses to fight Grimm and save people. Because it's the right thing to do. We don't just push off our problem with the Grimm to another just because we feel like it."

He finally looked up from his glass and met her eyes. "You seem to equate your chosen occupation with the Unkindled's. A faulty comparison."

"Is it?" she asked. "We kill Grimm to save people. You kill the Lords of Cinder to save the world."

"Save the world…" He savored those words on his lips. "That is the role of the Lords. Ones who have saved it before."

"That's not the point!" she repeated. "What matters is that they're not doing it, so someone else needs to, like you."

"Need? What need is there to save the world?"

Pyrrha opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything. Not because she lacked an answer, but because she couldn't tell if he meant it rhetorically or if he was genuinely curious and demanded an answer.

"And what of you? Would you sacrifice yourself to save the world? If you were told you could rid the world of Grimm with your death, would you end your life? Is that what a Huntress of your fortitude would do? Out of duty?"

Her nails dug into her palms. The urging in his voice and the stared around her made her realize this was no longer a private conversation. A guest of Beacon Academy and the Mistral champion, of course there would be attention.

The stranger stood up. His cold glare combined with his stature finally made her break eye-contact, forcing her head down.

"A sacrifice is only worth as much as the life it spares. You are living, flesh and blood. A child, not Unkindled. You need not die for such a trivial thing." He poured one more glass and passed it to her. "You would have liked Ludleth."

She peered into the glass, trying not to look at him. "Ludleth?"

"One of the last Lords of Cinder. To him, it was the highest honour that a crippled Pygmy like him became Lord, and despite knowing that torturous fate, was proud to burn again. So much so that he was first to reclaim his throne for the Linking, and was the only one to do so on his own."

She finally took a sip from her glass. When he first spoke of the Lords, she thought of them as powerful and noble, if tragically misguided, figures who sacrificed themselves so others wouldn't have to. It was the expected duty of such people to carry that burden. A burden no one else could.

But what sane person would want to carry it? And if given a choice, choose to do so again?

Ren's brows furled at the tale. "Wait a minute."

Pyrrha jumped. She had gotten so caught up in the conversation she forgot about her team.

Ren coughed before continuing. "You said, "would have liked". Does that mean he's dead?"

The stranger nodded. "By the time I… left my home, all of the Lords have returned to their thrones as cinders."

"Does that mean it was done, this Linking of the Fire?" he asked.

"The reason why the ceremony requires five Lords is due to the fading Flame. Their cremation simply makes it possible for the Unkindled to link it in their stead."

"But… you said that Unkindled were people that failed to link it in the past."

His hands curled into fists. "Is it any wonder why the Unkindled abandoned their duty?"

The bell rang again.

* * *

The last class, Combat Training, was the most anticipated. Not because it was the last class nor the most active lesson, but because of the remote chance of seeing the stranger fight. Some of the transfer students were the most enthusiastic, despite their hushed voices.

When asked directly by Nora and Ozpin, however, he declined.

"If all of your students are as skilled as Oobleck's team, I would most likely lose."

"Oh? Who was the strongest person you fought?" Nora bounced on her heels as the first combatants, Ruby and Ren, walked over to the stage.

He rubbed his neck. "There were several, all of them more powerful than the last."

The battles between the students were a novel sight. With their use of Aura and transforming weapons, they moved faster and performed techniques more complex than any he saw in Lothric.

"Why do they not use their firearms, their Dust?"

"Dust is a finite resource. This class is to help the students improve their skill with weapons as much as general combat," Ozpin answered. "It also prevents certain students from having an advantage over the other."

"I understand the need to conserve, but I hope they know in battle, anything goes."

"By the way, Sir…" Goodwitch approached the two men, bowing curtly at Ozpin. "The headmaster's told me you haven't unlocked your Aura?"

He looked up at the screen on the wall, the green bars slowly turning yellow. "No. I assume it is because I lack a soul."

"Pardon me?" Her brow crinkled. "All living beings have souls, and with proper procedures, their Aura can be unlocked and utilized. It's one of our oldest teachings as Huntsman and Huntresses."

"The Grimm lack souls, and they wander and fight."

"...they are the exception."

He sighed. "Unkindled are vessels for souls, but we do not have souls of our own. We gather souls from the the beings we kill."

Goodwitch quickly scanned the room, hoping no one overheard them. Thankfully, everyone seemed too distracted by the battle. "Please don't talk about such things where students can overhear. And you never told us about this, Headmaster."

"This is the first I've heard of this." Despite his earnest tone, the smile never left him.

The stranger harrumphed before turning back to the fight. "To finish off, we gather souls from the beings we kill to empower ourselves, the vessel."

"So you're only as strong as the souls you collect?" Ozpin's smile was gone, and his voice lowered in volume and tone.

"We are Undead. We cannot strengthen rotten muscles and bones through training. A Fire Keeper must transmute the souls we gather into our physical constitution."

"I assume there are none of these Fire Keepers here?" Ozpin asked.

The stranger shook his head. "They belong to an Age of Fire. There is no need for me to kill."

Jaune and a transfer student named Emerald were the last to fight. He fought desperately, keeping his shield up while trying to parry and counterattack, but she was simply too quick. Her constant barrage of blows from multiple angles made it implausible for a fighter like him to keep up with.

"An uneven match, is it not?"

Goodwitch clenched her teeth. "Mr. Arc's results have been steadily improving. And with the Vytal Festival coming up soon, having him compare his skills with a foreign student gives us an understanding of how not just him, but our training standard fares to others."

"I meant that not in a negative light. Most fights are rarely fair. But he does not seem to exhibit such improvement. His equipment and tactics are not suited for an opponent so deft."

Ozpin rubbed his cane. "Perhaps another opponent, one from our school, would be more appropriate?"

The stranger shook his head. As he approached the stage, he looked at the board. Emerald's bar was untouched, and with that last blow, Jaune's had just turned yellow.

Once more, Jaune had his shield raised. Emerald smirked before dashing forward and kicking it forward, knocking him into the air and sending him crashing into the wall.

"Boy."

Everyone stopped moving as he reached the stage's edge. Goodwitch quickly passed him and called for a time-out. As Emerald stood frowning with crossed arms, Jaune looked up and saw the stranger peering down.

"What are you doing?"

Jaune wiped the sweat on his face. "Uh… fighting?"

"You have yet to land a single blow on her, and you cower behind a shield. Is that how you define fighting?"

Jaune growled, his teeth bared. "She's fast, okay? I can barely keep up, so I'm blocking and countering!"

"You have Aura to protect you. Why use a shield? She herself uses dual-handed weapons."

"It's… it's the one I'm most used to." He unfolded his shield and sheathed his sword. "And I don't have any other weapons on me."

"What do you think a sword and shield are for? What battle conditions?"

Jaune frowned. "Conditions… one of my grandfather used it in the Great War in the past, so a battlefield, I guess?"

The stranger nodded. "Does this look like a battlefield?" He spread his arms at the stage. "These are not the conditions fit for a knight. If you are weak, you need to fight like the battle demands you to, not the other way around."

He reached into one of his pockets and tossed him a tangle of leather straps. Jaune flinched when he unfurled them: the leather was stained dark and studded with metal rivets.

"There is one enemy and one of you. If you hide behind a shield against such a quick foe, you will never have a chance to attack while she whittles you down. Against someone like her, you cannot afford to fear injury."

Jaune looked down at the caesti and back at him. "I'll… I think I get what you mean."

The stranger had already turned back and walked back to his seat. Goodwitch gave a long look at the leather before deeming it acceptable, even showing Jaune how to wear it.

"Interesting choice for him," Ozpin remarked. "Very few Huntsmen specialize in hand-to-hand combat, and even fewer use such… mundane weapons."

"The term is "traditional", which Jaune Arc stands by. It would be laughable to fight Grimm using leather straps. But a human is a different story."

Refitted, Jaune stared down his opponent, who smirked as she got back into her stance.

"Don't think some fancy gloves're going to help you."

Goodwitch gave the signal, and Emerald dashed forward.

Jaune deployed his shield again, trying to keep his eyes on her swift attacks while processing what the stranger said to him.

But what was he supposed to do with his new weapons if he can barely graze his opponent in the first place?

_I can't stop her attacks, she's too fast for me to counter effectively, and those sickles can turn into medium-range weapons with those chains and go around my shield. _

_Wait a second… those chains… too fast… _

Gritting his teeth, Jaune folded up his shield and gripped his sword with both hands.

"What's he doing?" Pyrrha muttered. "That shield's his only defense!"

Ren scratched his chin. "Maybe defense isn't what he needs right now. He knows he can't stop her, and she's too quick for countering." He looked back at the stranger. "But if anyone's got a plan, it's Jaune."

"Ooh, look at him duck and weave in and out! He's like a boxer!" Nora shook her fists in excitement. "Get her, Jaune!"

Emerald swung wildly, but Jaune was acclimated to her speed. Even if he couldn't counter her, he could still see them coming and move out of the way. The stranger was right: he was so used to using the shield that he didn't think about how much it restricted his vision.

But he knew it wouldn't be enough. She was still landing blows and his Aura was still draining. Time to get aggressive.

"There are many reasons to prefer a shield. But sentimentality is not one." The stranger walked up to JNPR on the stands. "Changing your weapons and tactics is necessary for survival."

"But to do so in the middle of battle?" Pyrrha asked worriedly. "He didn't train to fight like this."

He shrugged. "If martial skill is not enough, perhap brute savagery will aid better."

Emerald snarled. This fight was dragging on for too long. Jaune's Aura was almost in the red: it was time for the grand finish.

Which was what he was waiting for.

She pounced, falling down with both sickles crashing down. Jaune held back a smirk. Finally, an obvious attack.

He dropped his sword and crossed his arms, ready to block.

"What's he doing?" Pyrrha gasped. "He's not thinking of blocking with those caesti!"

Under his helm, the stranger smirked. "Who said anything about blocking?"

With a slam, the sickles bit into the leather. It still couldn't cut his skin due to his remaining Aura, but Emerald knew without it, his fingers would be on the ground.

Which is why she didn't expect him to grab her blades and untwist his arms, causing hers to cross in the process. No matter how much she struggled, she couldn't free her weapons from his grip.

Smirking for the first time, Jaune delivered a knee strike directly into her gut, sending her reeling back. He ignored the pain in his palms as he tackled straight into her, his shield expanded, until they both hit the opposing wall.

The siren buzzed. The match, and the class, was over.

"Match!" Goodwitch yelled. "Winner: Emerald Sustrai!"

Jaune and Emerald picked themselves up, the former struggling far more, as they stared at the screen: Jaune's Aura was in the red, and Emerald's had been knocked down to nearly half-empty.

"Are you both alright?" Goodwitch asked them. "Mr. Arc, you may wish to visit the infirmary."

Jaune rubbed his head. The impact was stronger than he thought. He pulled his hand back, only to see blood dripping off the torn leather. "Wha- aw, damn. Second time in two days."

"That was incredible!" Ruby was the first one down. Behind her, JNPR and the rest of RWBY followed. "That was something out of a movie, you just catching the blade like that and pushing her back!"

"Heh, yeah, I guess." Jaune gingerly removed the caesti and groaned. A thin streak of red ran down his palms. "Didn't think my Aura was that low, though. Could go for some of that homebrew-thing again."

"You're lucky you didn't get your fingers cut off!" Pyrrha held his hands, inspecting the damage. "Leather can't block against blades!"

"That was a gutsy move," Ren added. "If you didn't have Aura, all she needed was one good yank and you'd be headed to the ER."

"Yeah, but these things-" Jaune held up the caesti "-made it easy to grab her weapons. And, uh…" He looked around, and saw Emerald already by her teammates. "Well, she's got less muscle than me, so… yeah."

"Using your natural strength to overpower a swift opponent." The stranger walked down to them with Ozpin behind. "Good thinking."

He grimaced. "When you say it like that, I sound like a thug."

"Interesting tactic, but a risky one." Goodwitch frowned at the stranger. "Disabling your opponent is a legitimate approach, but at the expense of your own safety is not one I can condone. Especially when it comes to my students."

The stranger shrugged. "Is that not what Aura is for?"

"Her intent wasn't to insult, Sir," Ozpin said. "She is simply doing her job of protecting her students from more harm than necessary. And Mr. Arc, what do you think of the results?"

Jaune looked over his hands again and the screen. "I never thought of it before. It sounds so… contrary to everything, taking a hit like that, but…"

"Pain is inevitable. You cannot go into a battle-"

"Afraid to get hurt," Jaune grumbled. "You're right. I should just be glad I did what I could. Maybe if I strengthened my Aura, it could be a more viable option."

"That is what Combat Training is for, Mr. Arc," Ozpin said, smiling

"But it paid off, right?" Nora asked. "I mean, no offense, but that was the coolest thing I've seen you do in Training, and that shield shove - you've never did that before!"

"Heh, I got that off of his shield, the spiked one." Jaune pointed at the stranger, said shield hanging on his back. "Oh right, your caesti! Here, they're a bit bloody, so if you want, I can get them washed and mended!"

The stranger shook his head. "Keep it. It did you more good than either of us expected." He pulled out some more of that golden powder. Instantly, the leather stretched back to perfect condition. "And here. A parting gift."

A fire formed in his left hand. Everyone's eyes widened as a radiating ball of shimmering light hovered out into the air.

"So that was the fire Oobleck spoke of," Ozpin hummed. It looked like the sun, but it didn't shine as blindingly. "I thought I warned you not to use it in public?"

"There is a purpose to this spell." He turned to Jaune. "Your hands."

Jaune looked down and gasped: the cuts in his palms were fading. He didn't even notice the stinging pain was gone. He stared at the ball of light. He could feel its warmth, but it didn't accumulate into a burning heat like sunlight.

"In the past, there were Undead who worshiped the gods and their light. This spell mimics their sun and the warmth they felt from it." The stranger turned around, passing by Emerald and her friends. "It will expire soon. I suggest you use it, girl."

"That'll be alright. None of us were harmed in class." The girl with black hair smirked. "But I must say, that's quite the impressive ability."

The stranger stopped moving. He met her yellow eyes and stood there.

"Sir?" Ozpin approached them. "Is something wrong?"

He turned back to the headmaster, with the rest of the students behind him, all equally curious and anxious.

"I am leaving."

* * *

With the day over, Ozpin saw the stranger walk out of the front gates. He offered to take him to the city port with some Lien, but the stranger turned him down, prefering to wander his way out of Vale. In the end, he couldn't convince him to stay.

Still, he was an interesting man, and worth investigating. Even if he wasn't one of Salem's, he was certain one of her agents would find him eventually.

"You seem more interested in him than I am, Headmaster," Oobleck said behind him.

"If what he says and has demonstrated is true, there is more to the world than I thought." He chuckled. "What is your impression of him, Doctor? Personally, I mean."

Oobleck walked next to him and looked saw the stranger disappear behind the treeline. "When he talked in my class, he was… motionless. He had no drive or motivation, but a task to perform: to talk, and did so. Once he has an objective, he does it, regardless of its outcome. A typical student mentality. I think Qrow was like that when he attended here.

"Yet, there's a restlessness in him now. It isn't a desire to see or do, but a desperation. What for, I don't know." Oobleck turned his head, noticing an open window with a crow perched on the sill.

Ozpin nodded. "For someone that calls himself socially inept, you see a lot in people."

"I'm an educator, and I was an even worse case as a child. I had to learn to see things and people like you do, Headmaster." Oobleck sipped his coffee and shrugged. "But please, back on topic: you wanted me for something?"

Ozpin sat down on his seat and sighed. As a planner, he had to be careful about who to trust and when to trust them. With the prep work for the Vytal Festival nearly finished and Qrow's own warning on Salem's forces, he was almost certain there weren't going to be any coincidences for the Festival's duration.

The elevator opened. Goodwitch and Ironwood entered the office. Ozpin had to keep his smile down: he didn't know whose face sported the deepest scowl.

"Thanks for the invitation, Ozpin. I wanted to report on some last-minute changes to security detail." Ironwood gave a curt nod at Oobleck. "Doctor, sorry if I'm interrupting."

Oobleck nodded. "Not a problem. I'll be just outside, Headmaster."

"Thank you." Ozpin sighed as the doctor closed the door behind him. "The reason I called you both was in was partially related to Oobleck."

Goodwitch frowned. "Is it about those artifacts? And our guest?"

"That man's a guest of yours, Ozpin?" Ironwood scratched his head. "Was it really alright to have a stranger in your academy?"

"It's because he's a stranger that I wanted him where he could be observed." Ozpin sat back at his desk. "And his artifacts are worth proper study. That's why I called you over, all of you, for council."

He turned on his computer and activated its speaker phone. "Qrow, you there?"

A few seconds later, a face appeared on the holoscreen. Qrow, dishevelled hair and all, grinned at the sight of Ozpin.

"Hey, Oz. Everything's safe back home, I hope?"

Ozpin nodded. "So far. Make yourself presentable, you've got an audience."

The screen turned around, exposing the rest of the room to the huntsman.

"Gee, you got the whole gang here? Couldn't you have waited 'til I got back for a sitrep from Ironboot?"

"Enough!" Ironwood stepped forward to Ozpin, ignoring Qrow as best he could. "Why did you bring us here? Does it have something to do with your "guest"?"

"Completely. Our mystery guest is a x-factor, a potential piece in our war. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be working with Salem or against us." He pulled out photos from the campus security and laid them out for everyone to see. "He's from another world, an Undead. He claims to be older than even Remnant, and possesses magic unlike even the Maidens."

Qrow's face hardened. "What the hell's something like that doing in Remnant? And what do you want us to do with him?"

"I don't know. But all I can say on the matter is: be careful with him." Ozpin turned to Ironwood. "James, make sure your men don't engage him if he reaches Vale's border. He means no harm by himself, but if he's threatened, he's sure to fight back. I won't have any altercations in Vale until the Vytal Festival's over."

Ironwood crossed his arms. "If he's a potential threat, we need to do everything we can to contain him! And if he has magic… how can you let him go so easily?"

"Because he hasn't committed any crimes, James, nor does he want our help." Ozpin stared hard into Ironwood's eyes. "He saved my students and staff from Grimm, and negotiating with him without proper tact will only antagonize and deter him. He knows this and that is why he left: to leave in peace before we could come up with an excuse to keep him here."

Ironwood met his gaze. "You should have called for me sooner."

"The last thing you need to do is detain someone on assumptions just to rein in paranoia." Ozpin stood up. "As far as he and everyone else's concerned, he's a tourist from far away who's come to see the Vytal Festival. If he decides to leave, let him."

Ironwood stepped back and sighed. "Very well. But my security will still report to me if they find him."

"Undo your belt every once in a while, James," Qrow chuckled. "Not everyone's going to follow your timetable. And Oz, any changes on my end?"

"Continue your recon. Keep an ear open for anyone, rumors, even jokes, about Undead or magic."

Goodwitch coughed. "Now, is there anything else, Headmaster?"

"Yes: the second reason I called you." Ozpin pushed his cup aside. "I would like to induct Bartholomew Oobleck into our fold."

"Wha?!" Qrow nearly dropped his scroll, and Ironwood and Goodwitch's jaws dropped.

"He and his team were the first to meet this knight. Our friend even offered valuable relics for Oobleck to study, most likely magical ones. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, James." Ozpin got up from his seat. "Oobleck's a historian, not a scientist. However, you have a place in Atlas and its Research and Development Branch. Yours is the only one in Remnant that knows more about the mysteries of Aura and magic than any other. If anyone can get something out of these artifacts, it's your team."

Ironwood gritted his teeth. From where she stood, Goodwitch could see a vein pulsating on his head. "This is it, then? A bribe?" He ignored Qrow and Goodwitch's glares and stepped forward. "Why not just confiscate them? I'm sure your colleagues here trust you enough to not ask questions."

Ozpin shook his head. "Bart is a different case. He would gladly risk his life in the pursuit of knowledge." He gave a long sigh. "A pursuit I wouldn't be able to stop. If I did such a thing, it would only breed ill will in him. Sooner or later, he would grow suspicious, and while I doubt he would take matters into his own hands, that trust between us won't hold him back.

"But right now, you're the one with the veto. I'm only giving you an offer."

Ironwood clenched his fists. "I've already shared our black projects with you to keep your Maiden alive, and now you want me to personally expose it all to a Vale citizen! You think my men back home will stand for that?"

"No. But I know you want your kingdom to survive our war more than anyone else, and that your team is perfectly willing to keep silent about this and remain loyal to you. I will ensure Oobleck does the same."

Ironwood turned away from the group. He looked down at his feet wondering if this advantage was worth the risk. "You will be informing Oobleck about our operation? About Amber?"

"Of course. He knows better than most of us just how much power knowledge holds. And once he knows what's at stake, that will be enough for him to cooperate."

"We can't provide private transportation for these artifacts right now. And you'll need all your staff to supervise the Vytal Festival."

"That's why I'm telling you this now: to give you time to think it over. Contact your R&D Branch, see what they think. Until you've come to a decision, the artifacts will remain vaulted here. You may see it yourself if you want."

"That's alright. I trust you." Ironwood rubbed his head. There were too many changes at one time. Coordinating Atlas security in Vale was laborious enough, but now this "Undead" had to complicating things. Not to mention his public presentation of his new security droids were coming up soon.

"No rest for the wicked, then," Ironwood grumbled. "But I can't guarantee anything until R&D get their hands on it. Even then, it could be months before they get anything worthwhile out of it."

"We're in this for the long game, General." Qrow gave a soft smirk before downing his flask. "If anyone can get something out of this, it's you and your people."

"Then it's settled." Ozpin sat back down on his seat. "Would you bring him in, Glynda?"


End file.
